Set Fire to the Pet Shop
by ArceusGPG
Summary: Blythe is such a nice, sweet girl. She would never do such a thing. Perish the thought.


Sirens and panicked voices drowned out my uncontrollable laughter as I watched black smoke rise into the night sky. The street was so bright thanks to my handiwork, and as the orange fingers twisted and curled around the pet shop, the glow only brightened.

I kept my index finger and thumb pressed against each other, held up to my face to display the singed wooden stick between them. The black tip amused me in ways I could never describe; it told me my work was complete, I had finished the job. Now it was all up to the forces of nature.

I never wanted to do that. I never wanted to pour that gasoline into the ventilation system. The two twins made me. They forced me to do it. I never wanted to strike those matches. Those animals in there. They told me to. Those creatures were molesting my mind, shoving me down the stairs of insanity.

But I refused to bend to their will, or become the puppet of their devious works. I locked them in their cages, into the prisons they made for themselves. Their large eyes, their whines, their pawing at the air, they were means of manipulation. They were trapped in burning boxes, and they knew that nothing they could say would change that.

Such is the price of corruption.

None of this was my fault, really. It was all because of my _damn_ father who was never there when I needed him, that _damn_ "chancy Nancy" store owner, those _damn_ twins, and worst of all, those _damn_ pets.

Damn, damn, damn. All of them are damned. That's why they should burn, just like those little abominations in the pet shop.

My normally pale face was blacked with the filth of soot and ashes. I had stayed to watch the show for too long. I had front row seats too, the best in the burning house.

I giggled, flicking the match aside. It was all too simple, as if I were fated to succeed. Some nice fire fighters came to save me from the choking smoke, and I graciously accepted the help, playing the part of the victim. Oh, what a role it was. I was just a little girl drowning in the flames of misfortune, saved by the wondrous grace of humanity's saviors. Maybe they would have put me back if they knew.

But no one would ever believe that such an innocent child could commit such an atrocity. Who would ever investigate me? All of the evidence went up in smoke, so what did I ever have to worry about? The building's fire was just an accident; history would write itself that way. The animals inside the building wouldn't even be mentioned in the newspapers; they wouldn't be important enough to even consider. Their lives were worth nothing. Nothing.

Maybe now my father and I will move somewhere we both want to go to. Maybe he'll actually listen to me this time, instead of ignoring me. Maybe, just maybe, he'll treat me like I'm actually important to him.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, smearing streaks makeup and char on my jacket. Sniffing, I tried to let loose another laugh, but it was stuck in my throat, refusing to leave. I swallowed, pressing on my eyeballs. The smoke was making my eyes water.

The kids at school. All of them. They were laughing on the inside, talking about me behind my back. Even my friends were whispering in the shadows, like stagnant spirits cursing the living. Their gossip, their loose tongues, their inconsiderate actions... they were just like everyone else. At least everyone else didn't play the sadistic masquerades of amiability.

Yes, everyone called me crazy. I was just the daughter of a pilot, given into the vices of insanity. Those animals couldn't talk, they were just the machinations of a tortured mind, the playthings of a demented child. I was just imagining everything.

But no, I knew better. Their existence persisted. They were real, just as real as me. There was no denying it; everyone else was just afraid of the truth. But how could I open their eyes?

Through destruction. It was the wake-up call that everyone needed. Nothing will change unless drastic measures are taken for the good of all. I was helping them, even if they didn't realize it.

I am just doing what's right, what's best for the world. Those animals were_ pure evil_.

I allowed a few tears to roll down my cheek, not bothering to brush them away.

This was all their fault. I _had_ to do it. I just _had_ to.

My weariness brought me to my knees, sobbing.

I didn't want to do it, but what else could I do?

Those around me would believe that I was weeping for the loss of my home. I could cry all I wanted, even if I had nothing to cry about.

It wasn't me, I _swear_. I would never do such a thing.

A hand gently grabbed my shoulder, startling me.

Why me? Why me?

I looked up to see the tall man wearing a badge. He looked down at me, pitying me.

Was I so miserable-looking?

I sniffled, locking eyes with him.

"I never wanted this to happen," I said between sobs.

He nodded, helping me to my feet.

"I know," he said, his voice never wavering. His tone led me to believe he was telling the truth.

**Author's Note: This was inspired by the second episode's "setting fire to the pet shop" statement. I guess I found it amusing.**

**Blythe has always struck me as unstable, so I guess such a situation could occur... **

**Okay, probably not. Whatever. **

**As usual, you can PM if you have some suggestions or criticisms so I can fix and / or adjust this story accordingly (if necessary).**


End file.
